


between pole and tropic

by svartalfheimr



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottoming from the Top, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svartalfheimr/pseuds/svartalfheimr
Summary: When the High Council sends them a youngling on Christophsis, Rex is confused—and pissed, because this is no place for a child—but what really strikes him is how quick General Kenobi is to sayhewill be her Master, even though she was told it would be Anakin. It’s at this exact moment that Rex understands his General isn’t trusted. And it confuses him a whole lot because, from what he can see, the 501st has a fine Jedi in command. An oddball, for sure, but still a fine Jedi.---Canon divergence: Anakin steals a ship on Naboo and goes to Tatooine to save his mother. On his own. Shmi dies, Anakin goes on Geonosis and the war begins. Nothing changes, except in all the ways it does.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Darth Maul/Anakin Skywalker, Darth Maul/CT-7567 | Rex, Darth Maul/CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	between pole and tropic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nebulera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulera/gifts).



> This barged in out of nowhere, left without even a word then came back full force to punch me in the face only to run away again. I don’t even know. What I _do_ know is that I tried to write a dirty pwp without any feelings whatsoever—and if you read like, maybe 20% of this? but like just bits and pieces here and there? I did it. Huge success!!
> 
> I actually, legit tried to see _how_ I could make maulrexakin a thing and since I usually like canon divergences that only change just a small couple of things or like one (1) huge big thing to see where it goes,,,I decided Anakin didn’t tell Padmé he’d go rescue his mom on Tatooine and went on his own.
> 
> I had a burst of inspiration to write today so I asked Nebulera what ship she preferred at the moment (maulrexakin, maulrex or codyvader) and this one was intriguing so,,,,HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 🥳🥳🥳

  
  
  


He is… peculiar, his General. 

A shiny Jedi—as shiny as Rex's promotion. Aloof, quiet, prone to brood, reserved and with smiles that never reach his eyes. At first, Rex thinks this is just how he is—but it becomes quickly clear it _isn’t._ General Kenobi seems constantly worried about him and most Jedi who work with the 501st are just… _distant_ with him. More than they are with others. Like being around him is unpleasant. 

When the High Council sends them a youngling on Christophsis, Rex is confused—and pissed, because this is no place for a child—but what really strikes him is how quick General Kenobi is to say _he_ will be her Master, even though she was told it would be Anakin. It’s at this exact moment that Rex understands his General isn’t trusted. And it confuses him a whole lot because, from what he can see, the 501st has a fine Jedi in command. An oddball, for sure, but still a fine Jedi.

On Ryloth, though. That’s when Rex starts to theorize. Something happened—he can’t see _what_ exactly but there’s something about his General that doesn't sit well with him.

It takes him _weeks_ to realize Skywalker had avoided looking at anyone when they were in the village. Weeks to see he couldn’t even address the locals. Weeks to understand he couldn’t watch civilians in the eye.

Rex doesn’t know what to do with the revelation. He really hopes his General isn’t a speciesist, though.

  
  


*

  
  


They’re called to Naboo. The people want Generals Skywalker and Kenobi to go. Rex’s Jedi doesn’t want to go. He never says it, doesn’t imply it but Rex can feel it; the General doesn’t want to go on Naboo but, since they asked for him personally, he goes. And of course he brings Torrent with him—because they always go wherever he goes.

It’s kind of funny to see how adamant he is about them going everywhere he goes while he keeps his distance at the same time.

There’s something about the Senator. Rex isn’t sure what it is but there’s something. She looks at his Jedi with regret in her eyes. His Jedi doesn’t look at her at all.

When Rex gets trapped with the Senator and Cody’s Padawan, he thinks he’s going to die but he doesn’t show it. There are men with them, who are already shaken and losing hope quickly, and the kid is looking paler and paler by the minute. Suffice to say he has trouble admitting it at first but it looks like he’s going to die from a karking virus. Of all the possibilities he had to die in glory on the battlefield, he apparently chose to march away inside a smelly bunker coughing his lungs out.

They get out eventually. Cody’s General goes straight for the kid; Rex’s General goes straight for him. For a short instant, he disappears from view. He comes back quickly, with his sad eyes and pained face, and Rex frowns. “I’m alive, sir,” he feels the need to say out loud.

His Jedi smiles and says, “Yes, you are.”

Rex blacks out right after. He never talks about this to anyone else but he thinks about this moment from time to time. He doesn’t know what to make of it.

  
  


*

  
  


The 501st never takes leave on Coruscant. They go to nice places—Scarif and Spira and even Murkhana before it goes karked up, but never Coruscant.

Until Umbara, that is.

It’s after Umbara that Rex loses patience and confronts his General. They joined him on Coruscant because it’s the thing to do—he was the one called here before everything went wrong. The problem is that the General wants to leave as soon as they arrive.

“We don’t need to stay here,” he argues. “We can go anywhere else.”

And now—now is when Rex karks up enormously. But he’s tired. He’s tired, in pain, trying to force down all the kriffing screams he wants to let out. He’s tired and he wants to see Cody and he wants to _stop karking thinking_ for just one second.

“Fierfek, can’t you let us rest for a karking minute,” he thinks. Except he says it out loud. He stills, closes his eyes, cursing himself. The damage is done. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about it.

The General takes a step forward but stops abruptly in mid stride. He steps back, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I’m sorry,” the Jedi replies eventually.

This is when Rex should apologize. He should say something or even try to salvage what’s left but he simply nods and sighs his exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, Rex,” his Jedi says and something breaks inside him.

“I sent my men to kill their brothers because you weren’t here,” he replies, completely uncaring of the weight of his words, his wound still open and hurting. “I killed clones because _you_ weren’t here.”

His Jedi doesn’t even flinch. He just stares at him and says, “You’re right.”

Rex turns around and goes to leave. He stops before he can reach the exit and turns back around. He takes off his helmet, puts in on the closest bench and closes the distance between them, tired eyes sliding up to stare at his Jedi’s face.

“We go wherever you go,” he tells him, swallowing around nothing. “Don’t leave us again.”

Now—now he knows him and he _knows_ what he’s saying isn’t going to be enough; Skywalker is going to twist his words until they turn into a curse and a silent demand for him to let them go.

“Sir. _I_ want to go wherever you go,” he says, hands clenching at his sides. “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

  
  


*

  
  


There’s a bombing at the Temple on Coruscant. They put the blame on Cody’s Padawan. She leaves. His brother changes. He becomes colder, harsher, less empathic. He becomes better for it—a true Marshal Commander—but Rex feels like he’s losing his brother little by little and there’s nothing he can do about it.

After Fives, he begins to understand. It’s easier. He also begins to loathe Coruscant as much as his General does.

  
  


*

  
  


His Jedi is having nightmares. Rex knows it because he wakes up afraid in the middle of the night and he _knows_ he isn’t the one who’s afraid. He can tell there’s something going on; he can tell these aren’t regular nightmares. That’s the thing with Jedi—nothing is ever normal with them. They experience _more,_ feel _more,_ live _more._ It’s karking exhausting to be around them but he’s not stupid enough to not realize it has to be even more exhausting to _be_ them. Rex is silently grateful every day the Force decided he wasn’t really worth it.

  
  


*

  
  


One day they’re alone in the General’s quarters, Rex looking over holomaps while Skywalker is working on… something. He has no idea what it is and doesn’t try to keep up anymore; his Jedi takes up on projects after projects like he can’t help it. His room is a karking mess of mishmashed things and half opened (or destroyed) ones—droids and cybernetics and machines Rex doesn’t even know if they do have a purpose or not.

His Jedi doesn’t have any friends. He doesn’t know if it _is_ on purpose or not. He seems lonely. That’s why Rex doesn’t understand—because it looks like he is pushing people away on purpose. Why does he do that if he’s lonely?

Rex looks at him for a moment and doesn’t understand.

“What do you think about Maul?” his Jedi asks. 

“Maul?” he repeats with a confused frown. “The Sith Lord?”

“Yeah. What do you think about him?”

Rex blinks. “Er. I don’t really think about him, sir.”

Skywalker looks at him for a moment in silence then nods, leaving it at that. Rex isn’t sure what prompted that and he isn’t sure if he wants to know.

  
  


*

  
  


They’re orbiting Yerbana and preparing an assault on a city under Separatist control when his General asks him to follow him. Rex does, confused. When they’re in his quarters, he says, “We’re going to be on Mandalore soon.”

Rex nods. “Your dreams, sir?” he asks. He doesn’t react when his General grimaces.

“That obvious?”

“No, sir,” he reassures him. He doesn’t say anything else. He gives him time; he found out that if he lets the silence stretch his Jedi fills it eventually, like he can’t handle the lack of sounds or what remains unsaid.

“Maul will be there,” the General says, eyes fixed on one of his many projects. His jaw clenches. He’s avoiding looking at Rex. “We’re going to capture him and—”

He falls silent. It’s difficult not to prompt him but Rex is patient. The Jedi clears his throat, eyes sliding up to him and he frowns.

“I don’t know why. I don’t understand,” he tells him. “I see you and—you—” He takes a deep breath and releases it in frustration. “I don’t understand,” he repeats and Rex can almost hear the seething anger rising within him.

“What do I do, sir?” he asks, getting nervous but not showing it.

His Jedi stares at him with incomprehension, head cocked to the side. “You free him,” he whispers and the sense of betrayal is obvious in his tone.

  
  


*

  
  


Not even a cycle later, Cody’s Padawan contacts them. The General comes to find him in the hangar bay and tells him, “We’re going to Mandalore.”

Rex looks at him for a moment.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go, sir,” he suggests in a low voice so as not to attract attention.

“What? No,” his Jedi says immediately with a frown. “We _have_ to go. I saw Maul; I saw myself fightin—”

“ _I_ shouldn’t go, sir,” he repeats. He clears his throat. “Considering… what you saw. We shouldn’t take the risk.”

“Anakin,” General Kenobi calls from behind them. They both look at him; he is frowning. It’s not a good frown. He strides purposefully towards them and whispers harshly, “You are _not_ considering going, are you?”

Rex’s Jedi stiffens. “Of course I am,” he retorts. “I _told_ you; I’m _there._ I need to go there.”

“Anaki—”

“No, Master,” Skywalker cuts him off. “If I have to go against the Council, I will.”

General Kenobi’s eyes widen. He splutters. “You cannot be serious,” he mutters. He frowns, taking a step forward. “What’s going on?” he asks, eyes darting around them. “This is unlike you, Anakin. I thought we were past this. The Council isn’t—”

“You taught me to trust the Force, Master. Just like Master Qui-Gon taught you,” Skywalker says over him. “The Force is telling me to go there. I have to.”

General Kenobi stares at him in silence, standing still. He sighs, hand stroking his beard, then says, “Very well.” The other man releases a relieved sigh and smiles. “I take it you’ll bring Torrent with you?”

Skywalker’s eyes slide to Rex and he nods. “Of course, Master. They go where I go.”

  
  


*

  
  


“I’ll take care of it,” Skywalker says. Cody’s Padawan frowns.

“Why can’t I go with you?” She huffs. “I’m the one who contacted you.” 

“Master Kenobi will need your help,” he says. Before she can protest, he says, “Rex and I will be there with all of Torrent. I don't care about politics and you know it—but Coruscanti citizens need our help too. If Grievous wins, a lot of people will die.” He raises his hand then lets it drop back to his side instead of touching her, smiling wryly. “Torrent will go. Rex and I will go. It's going to be fine.” He sighs. “I just want to know Obi-Wan will have someone watching his back.”

  
  


*

  
  


Rex isn't sure how he convinced her—but Ahsoka doesn't go with them. She stays on the Venator with General Kenobi. 

Sundari has turned into a war zone. Rex is thrown right in the middle of this karking disaster, Torrent with him, and General Skywalker is quickly lured away. 

“Sir!” Rex yells when he sees him running in what he assumes is a trap. His Jedi goes without listening. “Fierfek.” 

“Go, captain!” Jesse shouts. “We'll handle it from here!”

He shouldn't go. He should stay here. But Rex _knows_ who's waiting for his Jedi—it has to be _him._

He goes after his General.

  
  


*

  
  


The throne room is gigantic and opulent. The Sith stands tall and proud in the middle; his words echo around them with power and charisma. It's not the first time Rex hears his voice—he saw the recordings, learned them by heart since his Jedi told him about his dreams—but it's an experience to hear it in reality.

It's a beautiful voice. Rex hates the fact that he can't help but liking it.

The first time Maul’s eyes settle on him, they widen and he stammers. He recovers quickly; Rex doesn't think he would have noticed if he himself wasn't affected as well. Why would he free him? Why would he betray everything he stands for _for him_?

It makes no sense.

  
  


*

  
  


The monster laughs. “I see it now,” he says. “You were discarded—just like I was. He found a better one.” Rex hears his growl of rage and despair, then how he whispers in a sob, “Of course. Of course it was him. It's always _him_.”

The General calls him a liar. Maul only laughs.

  
  


*

  
  


The Sith tries to escape. Unfortunately for him, Rex's Jedi is one of the best. 

“You’re all going to burn! We’re all going to die!” Maul yells before Rex stuns him. The words chill him to the core, the evident fear behind them digs a hole into his chest. 

Nothing about this battle feels right. 

  
  


*

  
  


It’s one thing to know you’re not really free—it’s another to feel yourself slipping away with three simple words. 

They're in hyperspace, heading straight to Coruscant. One moment, Rex is looking at Anakin with pride and satisfaction. Then, there is a priority comm from the Chancellor's office.

Three words. It's all it takes.

Rex begs. He doesn't know what he says. He looks at his Jedi, sees a _traitor_ and starts blasting.

  
  


*

  
  


_I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the For—_

  
  


*

  
  


“Rex? Are you okay?”

No. 

“I go where you go, sir.”

  
  


*

  
  


Rex looks at his Jedi. Suddenly it all makes sense. He laughs brokenly. “I know what we need to do,” he says.

Skywalker’s eyes slide to him and it’s very easy to pinpoint when _exactly_ the revelation dawns on him.

“You’re not serious,” his Jedi argues.

Rex smiles wryly.

“You know I am,” he replies.

  
  


*

  
  


Skywalker stays outside. Once he's in, Rex takes quick care of the guard. From the small window he can see the Sith’s eyes following his every movement and widening when he opens the cage.

He takes care of the restraints; Maul drops down immediately and Rex has to hold him up to prevent his fall.

“Easy,” he says gruffly. “Give it time.” He takes quick care of the mouth guard; the Sith gasps.

Rex frowns.

“You can let rage consume you,” he tells him, “or you can choose to survive.” 

Outside, they can hear a lightsaber deflecting blaster shots. They don't have time. He knows it but he takes the time anyway, hand cupping the monster’s face—because it’s one thing to lead brothers in battle with a steady voice and a hard grip; it’s another to succeed in approaching and taming the wildlife.

Before he can think about what he's doing, he brushes the Sith’s cheek with his thumb where the durasteel bit his skin. Maul's eyes widen then slowly slide up to settle on his visor.

“What's it going to be?” Rex asks, feeling almost drowned in the sickly yellow of his gaze, the broken blood vessels, and the open fear it reflects. “Rage or survival?”

The Sith stares, silent for a couple of seconds but it feels like an eternity.

“Captain,” he says eventually—and nothing else. He doesn't try to push him away or even attack him.

Rex smiles sadly and replies, “Not anymore.”

  
  


*

  
  


They don’t kill anyone. Maul respects their rules. As soon as the shuttle exits the Venator, they jump out of hyperspace and re-enters it before they can be followed. Rex has no idea where his Jedi is taking them. He doesn’t really want to know so he doesn’t ask.

The General's eyes stay on the viewport the entire time. He doesn't talk. He doesn't react. Rex doesn't have it in him to pry him out of his shell; he's barely holding it together himself.

During the entire flight, Maul puts as much distance as he can between him and them. He stares at Rex the entire time.

They end up on a jungle planet smacked in the middle of nowhere. Population: 1610. The nearest settlement is 113 kilometers West. Unfortunately, the data doesn’t take slums and camps into account. They won’t know if they have company until it’s too late—meaning Rex’s armor must stay inside the shuttle. Skywalker takes off his tabard, his obi, and they create a makeshift face covering for Rex out of them. 

  
  


It feels like a silent way for them to acknowledge what they lost.

  
  


*

  
  


Maul stays with them, even if he doesn't talk. Neither Rex nor Skywalker comments on it.

  
  
  


*

  
  


“I don't think that's a good idea, General.”

“Anakin.”

“Sir?”

“I'm not a general anymore, Rex. Call me Anakin.”

  
  


*

  
  


Skywalker and Maul observe each other but never interact. 

For an entire week, the Sith doesn't talk. Rex didn't know he could do that, seeing how much he seems to like his own voice.

They can’t stay on this planet. They’ll run out of food sooner rather than later. 

They don't really talk about leaving, though. They mostly… wait. They don't wait for anything in particular; they're not constantly aware of their surroundings like they would in enemy territory. It feels more like fluctuations from unrest to idleness to a void without emotions to the sensation that nothing can make sense—or at least that's how it feels for Rex. He sleeps, drinks, eats and does everything his body requires in some kind of mindless haze, never focusing on anything for too long and avoiding introspection as much as is humanly possible.

What happened before they landed here, the day before that felt like an entire year and the hours that stretched into an eternity—it all seems so far for Rex, concealed behind a wall made of transparisteel. He sees without acknowledging, remembers without recording, thinks without focusing on anything. 

His Jedi doesn't sleep, doesn't talk and doesn't interact with the outside world much; he looks like he is slowly trapping himself in a prison of his own doing. Rex knows he needs to help him. He _wants_ to help him. But somehow any task seems impossible to undertake. 

And during the entire ordeal, Maul doesn't talk. He stays silent but near, a looming presence that slowly becomes one with the environment. Rex looks at the skies then back down, sees him and doesn't react. He's not as wary as he was when they landed here—and he doesn't think he's the only one.

  
  


*

  
  


At night, Rex wonders if Maul will say something or if the last word he uttered would forever be ‘Captain’. 

  
  


*

  
  


The status quo is shattered when they walk into the cantina.

There is a mine thirty kilometers from the ship and a settlement nearby. Skywalker suggests going. Rex just shrugs, gestures at him to lead the way. Maul follows silently.

The miners don't really look at them—they _do_ but not directly. As soon as they arrive, it's a cacophony of bad signs. No one tries to talk to them, look at them, or even acknowledge them. It doesn't look promising. An entire settlement like this one shouldn't act this way. Whatever they're mining there is either slowly altering their minds or it's the ones controlling the mines that do.

When they see the cantina, it occurs to Rex that there are no kids here. They didn't cross paths with a single one.

  
  


*

  
  


There’s a parade broadcasted inside. The Core Worlds are still celebrating the end of the war, “still” being the important word here since Rex wasn’t even aware the war was over. No words about the Jedi. He sees his brothers marching to the Senate like trained monkey-lizards and knows none of them realizes how much they’ve lost with a single order from the Chancellor.

  
  


*

  
  


“We don't serve your kind,” the bartender says.

There are alarms rising in Rex's mind. He heard that before, directed at his men when they were on leave, and his first instinct is to attack but the clone officer in him _knows_ he can't. _Understood, sir,_ is his go-to response, followed by a nod and a sharp warning look at his men to leave with him peacefully. They're killing machines, trained to wipe places like this one quickly and efficiently. They're also clones, made to obey and respect higher ups. All civilians are to be respected, because they're higher than clones in the silent hierarchy no one talks about but everybody knows—the one that says clones and droids are built for a specific purpose in mind and should never deviate from that. Civilians don't have a purpose at birth; they have to choose one or several and they don't have to commit to them. This is what Rex sees as freedom—to have the choice to act or do nothing.

He deviated from his purpose the moment Skywalker put his mind to rest.

So he doesn't think. He punches the bartender straight in the nose.

  
  


*

  
  


By _your kind,_ the man meant “not Human”. It's weird to think about that; for the bartender, Rex is higher than Maul in the silent hierarchy, even if he is a clone.

  
  


*

  
  


The settlers politely ask them to never come back. They leave the cantina shattered, with unconscious drunkards lying here and there. Fortunately there are no lightsaber wounds and no blasters were drawn.

The walk back to the shuttle is done in silence. Rex’s nose is clogged up with drying blood. Skywalker’s left eye socket will be a nasty purple if they don't take care of it soon. He can't make himself glance at Maul.

“Let me see,” Rex says once they're inside, dropping the _sir_ at the last second. Skywalker's head perks up. “We have bacta.”

“It's fine,” his Jedi dismisses immediately. Rex scowls.

“No, it's not,” he snaps then closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He wants to help, not alienate him any further. “Please, just—”

Skywalker comes to sit in front of him silently. He avoids his gaze for the entire ordeal. 

“Sorry,” Rex says when the man winces, shattering the heavy silence around them. He can't make himself say something else. His Jedi doesn't say anything.

He looks awful with bacta and gauzes shoddily put around his eye socket. It's clear neither of them is a medic. Rex stares at his own hands, lying on his lap palms up, and feels empty.

“I felt it,” Skywalker whispers. “I felt them. I don't anymore.”

Rex looks up. His Jedi is staring into space. 

“Then what do you feel now, sir?”

Skywalker's eyes don't slide to him.

“Darkness,” he says.

  
  


*

  
  


“We can't stay here,” Rex tells them one evening when the last sun sets.

As much as they don't want to admit it, they have no choice. Supplies are running low. Temperatures have been slowly getting lower. If Rex is right, it should start freezing at night soon. They're not equipped for cold weather. They need to move.

Unfortunately, neither of his companions seem enthusiastic about the idea.

“We have nowhere to go,” Skywalker reminds him.

“I may have an idea,” Rex says. He doesn’t like it at all. He won’t tell them, though. “It would be temporary but…”

Maul stays silent during the entire ordeal. Neither Rex nor Skywalker ask him if he’s coming with them.

*

  
  


They fly low as soon as they enter atmo so as not to get pinged. Rex knows there was a siege here not so long ago but it seems it wasn’t on this side of the planet. He’s immensely relieved, then feels guilty because of it. The Lawquanes may have been minimally bothered but it’s definitely not the case of everybody who decided to live on Saleucami. 

  
  


*

  
  


Cut takes one look at him and his face morphs into dread. Guilt eats at Rex even more than it already did.

He lowers his rifle, takes a look at his companions and says, “Officers?”

“My General,” Rex offers. Skywalker nods respectfully but doesn’t bow. “And an ally.”

Cut stares at them for a moment.

“We won’t stay here for long,” Rex mutters, knowing how awful it is for him to ask such a big favor from a man who has everything to lose.

Cut sighs then shakes his head. “Nonsense,” he says. “You stay as long as you want.”

  
  


*

  
  


The kids are just as loud as he remembers them. They’re happy he’s here because they don’t understand he’s putting them all at risk. Skywalker doesn’t talk much but he answers whenever it’s necessary and after a couple of hours he grows less wary. The Lawquanes don’t ask any question and they act like it’s almost a regular occurrence for Rex to show up unannounced. 

Maul stays decidedly apart and closed off. He’s not outright aggressive but his stiff stance is enough to even deter the kids from trying to interact with him. Suu doesn’t even try to make conversation; she just points to a place at the table and puts down a glass of water in front of him.

Cut talks the entire time, even when he starts cooking. The responses are stilted at first because Rex can’t shake the feeling they’re not safe here and Maul doesn’t speak _at all_ but little by little his Jedi’s replies become less perfunctory and more interested. 

“Can you eat solid food?” Suu asks Maul bluntly when she sits down next to him. Cut doesn’t stop talking, keeping Skywalker’s attention and half of Rex’s. 

He doesn’t reply but his face is an answer on its own.

“I have Aithas,” she says anyway, getting up once again. “Shaeeah couldn’t eat solids when she fell sick.”

Dinner is spent mostly listening to the kids’ stories. Maul doesn’t touch the liquid nutrients and Skywalker looks positively interested in what is said, even genuinely participating.

“What’s wrong with it?” he asks when Jek talks about one of the malfunctioning droids.

“I’m not sure,” Cut replies with a weary sigh. “The old thing has been acting up lately.”

“Maybe I can take a look,” Skywalker suggests. He shrugs. “I’m a good mechanic.”

Cut takes one look at him, eyebrow raised, and smirks. “You know what? That’d be great.” 

They go to the barn as soon as dinner is over with the kids in tow. Suu more or less disappears and Rex is stuck at the table with Maul who is pointedly looking away.

When he said their supplies were running low, he wasn’t kidding. And he _knows_ they went out of liquid rations four cycles ago.

“Why didn’t you say anything,” he mutters, staring at his empty glass. “We could’ve moved earlier or—”

The Sith stands up abruptly and leaves the house without a single glance. Rex curses silently, hands clenching into fists.

“Go,” Suu shouts from the top floor. He doesn’t even want to know how she knows.

He curses again and goes after Maul. 

  
  


*

  
  


“Wait,” he calls when he sees him stalk towards their parked ship. Of course, Maul doesn’t.

Rex runs after him. Once he’s close enough, his first instinct is to grip his wrist—but he stops himself at the last moment and simply grazes him.

Maul stills.

“Are you leaving?” Rex asks, hand dropping. His fingers nervously tap on his thigh in an unknown rhythm. Why does this affect him this much? Maul is an enemy. He killed his brothers and would’ve killed countless more without even blinking. Why does the idea of him leaving seem unacceptable?

The Sith doesn’t move but he doesn’t say anything either. Rex swallows.

“I’m sorry,” he says roughly and he’s not sure why. He takes a step back. “The shuttle might take you two sectors away but you’ll need to refuel if you want to—” He falls silent. Maul has yet to move.

Rex would say he looks like he’s stalling.

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” he whispers. He shifts. “I wasn’t lying, earlier.” His hands twitch. “We’re allies now.”

Maul’s head tilts up and he stares at the sky.

“Allies,” he repeats, his eyes glowing in the faint light. It’s been a long time since he talked, weeks, maybe months, but his voice is still steady like he’s been conversing the whole time. “Allies against whom?” He turns back, staring at Rex. He huffs, with a frown that betrays fear. “It’s over, captain. We already lost.”

“You can’t know that,” he snaps. Maul’s face turns into a snarl.

“If Skywalker is here, then who do you think joined my old master?” he growls, advancing until he can put his forehead against Rex’s in a show of aggression, the base of his horns forcing him to either take a step back or start being confrontational himself.

The problem is that Rex freezes.

Maul is trying to get a rise out of him—he’s taunting him to fight. Not… not. Not that. But Rex freezes. It takes a couple of seconds but the Sith’s eyes widen and he flinches away abruptly, probably realizing what he just did. For a very long moment they just stare at each other until Maul scowls and says, “I will sleep in the shuttle.”

He storms away leaving Rex frozen in his spot. 

  
  
  


*

  
  


When he goes back to the house, Suu is waiting for him outside with a worried look on her face. Rex’s heart almost stops.

“What happened,” he says immediately when she’s within earshot. She shakes her head, lekku twitching, and she points at the barn.

“I don’t know,” she replies. “They came inside when I was watching the news.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “He’s in the barn. He asked us not to come,” she mutters. “He was polite but… Something’s wrong.”

Rex nods stiffly and says, “I’ll take care of it.”

He’s halfway when she calls him.

“It’s okay,” she says softly, looking at him intently. He’s not sure what she’s implying but he nods anyway.

Skywalker is standing in the middle of the barn, staring into space. Both of his hands are faintly shaking.

“Sir,” he calls in a whisper, stepping inside. His Jedi tenses immediately and sniffs, turning his head so Rex can’t see him. He tries to get closer. “Sir.”

“I’m not your General anymore, Rex,” he mutters. There’s no emotion in his voice. It’s bad. If he already closed himself off like that, it’s really bad. 

Rex walks to stand besides him, eyes focused on the eopies. “I know,” he replies. He doesn’t offer anything else because he doesn’t know what to do. It’s one thing to take care of his brothers—it’s another when it’s his Jedi. Rex is out of his depth. If Skywalker were one of his men, it would’ve been simple; a speech made to have him understand he matters, an offer to spar or have a drink, and in special cases… 

Rex swallows subtly and prepares himself to do what he thought he never would.

“Anakin,” he calls, shifting on his other foot. “I don’t—” he clears his throat, “I don’t feel the Force. I don’t know what you’re feeling right now.” He shifts on his other foot again. “I need you to tell me what’s going on.” 

His Jedi looks at him. But he doesn’t say anything. 

  
  


*

  
  


The Lawquanes have them sleep on the ground floor; there are only two bedrolls.

Rex can’t sleep. He’s been staring at the wall in front of him for maybe an hour now. On the other side of the room, his Jedi tosses and turns; he doesn’t huff but there’s a high chance he doesn’t only so as not to risk waking Rex up. Another hour passes and neither of them is sleeping. He waits. For another half hour maybe. Still not sleeping. Rex sighs heavily and gets up. He can see Anakin turning to him immediately. He avoids his gaze, taking his bedroll in hand, and he drags it quickly until he can put it right besides Anakin. He tucks himself back under his cover, back to his Jedi and he takes a deep, calming breath. 

He doesn’t say anything and Anakin doesn’t either. After five minutes, he hears him snore softly. Rex closes his eyes, huffing a quiet laugh, and falls asleep in a couple of seconds. 

  
  


*

  
  


When Anakin starts tossing in the middle of the night, Rex only wakes up halfway and slings his arm around him without thinking, like he would with a brother—he has the right technique, the one that doesn’t startle or sets reflexes both parties would rather do without considering the situation. Rex pulls his Jedi close and tucks his forehead in the crook of his nape, falling asleep immediately after he can sense Anakin has settled down.

  
  


*

  
  


Rex helps out in the farm. He doesn’t have the right skills—he’s a bit awkward but Suu is patient—and Anakin sets himself as a mechanic, trying to repair and improve everything he can. Maul doesn’t come back. Rex doesn’t want to check if the shuttle is still here. Though he can't help but glance at where it should be parked from time to time.

“He’s still here,” Suu tells him one afternoon when they walk back to the house. “I gave him the crate of Aithas. And I brought him water this morning.”

“You don’t have t—” Rex falls silent. She only shrugs.

“I’ve already seen what it’s like,” she says with a wry smile. “He needs time—that’s all. And we have time, so why not wait?”

  
  


*

  
  


They run out of time eventually. 

  
  


*

  
  


“I saw them at the market today,” Suu tells them. “They are afraid of insurrections.”

Cut and Rex go to see—they don't have paint anymore. They scrubbed their shell clean to the point of being off white and vaguely unnerving because there's hints of paint but not enough to know what color. It's a perfect illustration of what happened to the people inside these shells. If they start making rounds in the farms, the Lawquanes won't be able to hide them for long. It's already complicated enough for Cut. They can't risk it.

“Of course we can,” Cut says. Rex takes one deliberate look at where the kids are, playing outside with Anakin, and when he glances back the farmer grimaces. 

They can't risk it.

  
  


*

  
  


“We can't leave him like that,” he mutters that night when he and Anakin are in the bed rolls back to back. It's the first time one of them talked.

“You're right,” his Jedi says. He sighs. “I'll see what I can do in the morning.”

  
  


*

  
  


It's not as complicated as Rex expected to convince Cut. They do it in the kitchen when Suu and the kids are out. Rex has a rifle in his hands. He doesn't want to but Cut insisted. Seeing his General’s hands around the farmer’s head makes his heart accelerate and summons a faint ringing in his ears. They don't repeat the mantra but Rex still catches himself mumbling it.

  
  


*

  
  


It's difficult for the kids to understand why they need to leave. “You can't stay at least one more night?” Shaeeah bargains. Anakin takes her in his arms and it's the first time she doesn't complain. “Just one night.” His Jedi doesn't say anything and the girl is too smart for her own good. She cries. Her brother cries along. 

Suu embraces them before they leave for good. “Take care of each other,” she mutters in Rex's ear. “And take care of him.”

He doesn't have the strength to tell her Maul doesn't need taking care of so he doesn't. He smiles then nods his goodbye.

  
  


*

  
  


The shuttle is still here and Maul is glaring at them. When they stop in front of him, he rolls his eyes and goes inside. The ramp stays decidedly open. Rex shares a look with Anakin, shrugs, then walks inside as well. 

  
  


*

  
  


There's an entire crate of Aithas and two crates of rations. He wonders when Suu had the time to sneak past them—and how many times she did. 

Maul pilots. He hasn't told them where he is taking them. They just sit down and let him do what he wants. The pull to hyperspace feels like a silent promise; Maul waited for them and they didn’t even question why he did. He looks at Anakin and sees the same realization in his eyes. He’s certain his Jedi doesn’t know what it means either. After a while he falls asleep, lulled by the soothing blue tones and because he knows he’s safe here. It’s strange, to realize that too. He’s with two enemies of the Rep—Empire and yet he feels safe. But then, Rex is a defector, so that probably makes him an enemy too.

He feels Anakin leaning a bit closer to him when they fall asleep. He pretends he doesn’t notice.

  
  


*

  
  


Dathomir is an ugly planet. When it rains, it rains for a handful of minutes. Water drenches the land quickly then goes away. Rex hates it. He wants rain for days on end—he wants to stop seeing that red sun and see dark, nebulous clouds full of water and thunder. He looks out the window and scowls. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been here and the Empire hasn’t caught up with them. It’s strange; he’d thought Dathomir would be the first planet they would go to hoping to catch Maul.

Maybe he’s not worth it. Maybe they think he wouldn’t be as bold. In any case, nothing happens here without Maul’s supervision; the aliens that land here come for him and him only. The Nightbrothers ignore them and what he does as long as he leaves them be. Rex knows what the Sith does. He knows why people come here to see him. He finds that he doesn’t give a kriff. What he’s surprised about is that Anakin doesn’t seem to either.

His Jedi has been brooding. Ever since they landed here. He’s not doing well. He’s not doing well at all. He’s become snappish; he snarls at Rex then looks at him with eyes full of regrets and goes away. The problem is that Rex doesn’t know what to do. He’s no Jedi; he doesn’t know what they’re supposed to do when one of their own isn’t doing well. If Anakin were a brother then it wouldn’t be difficult—but that’s not the case. And it’s not like he can comm another Jedi for advice.

“Fierfek,” he curses out loud. It’s not a joke. It’s not funny. Why the kark does he think stuff like that?

Maul huffs shortly. Rex turns around to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The Sith is staring at datapads haphazardly placed on the table before him. It’s stupid to ask because he knows he won’t get any answer. Maul never tells him what’s going on or what he’s doing.

“Train him,” the Sith says.

Rex’s eyes widen. “What,” he blurts out, blinking uncomprehendingly. Maul sighs; this time, his frustration is evident. His eyes raise from the datapads to stare at him.

“Train him,” he repeats. “Give him purpose.”

It’s… it’s not a bad idea, actually. He’s a bit ashamed he didn’t think about it himself. Maul doesn’t wait for a response; he looks down again and acts like Rex doesn’t exist. Like he does most of the time. At first, Rex really thought this was genuine—that as soon as Maul considered an interaction done or that Rex didn’t have any discernible purpose then he didn’t register as being here. He knows better now. The Sith always knows exactly where he is. He knows exactly when Rex moves, when he is going to speak, when he leaves or decides to come closer.

Just like he does now.

It’s not easy to see; he doesn’t tense or even react. Rex takes a couple of steps away from the windows and walks closer to him. Maul doesn’t move. His body doesn’t stiffen. His throat doesn’t bob. His eyes don’t narrow. But there’s something—something so subtle Rex wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t looking specifically for it. Maul stops breathing. For one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten seconds. He doesn’t breathe. His chest doesn’t rise or fall. For all the time Rex walks, Maul is entirely still. 

Rex closes his eyes; it’s started raining again. One of the windows is open. The sound of droplets landing on the transparisteel echoes throughout the room. He inhales sharply; it smells like thunder. Hopefully this time it will last.

“I don’t know the Force,” he mutters, standing besides Maul. And there—he breathes again. He doesn’t inhale or exhale sharply. He breathes as if he were the entire time. It’s very subtle and Rex is very proud he has noticed. The Sith doesn’t reply. Rex observes him; he openly watches him look over the datapads. Two can play at this game; if Maul wants to ignore him then Rex will stare at him without even trying to be subtle. 

The rain stops—as it always does. The smell is thick in the air and the temperature rises. Rex doesn’t know how the Sith can stand to wear so many layers. He chuckles, shaking his head, then walks away, leaving the room silently.

  
  


*

  
  


Rex doesn’t know what’s more worrying: Anakin agreeing to be trained or the fact that he didn’t even bring his lightsaber.

  
  


*

  
  


He knows perfectly well why his Jedi is hurting. He knows perfectly well there’s not much he can do about it. Rex watches the Holonews because he is an imbecile. He always does it when he is alone. He is always afraid he will see _him_ someday. The Emperor is talking. It’s not a long speech. If anything, it’s rather short. Compared to what the Governors and Senators said, he’s almost insignificant. Or perhaps he doesn’t speak much because he doesn’t need to. _He_ isn’t standing besides the Emperor. Not today. But Rex knows that there’s a chance that _he_ may be there someday. This is why he never watches the news with Anakin. Sometimes he wonders what happened and entertains the idea that it _can’t_ be what he thinks happened. Because, really, Rex doesn’t see any other alternatives. It has to be about _her._ Otherwise, he doesn’t know—because it doesn’t make any sense for _him_ to have become… _this._

*

Rex can’t even say _his_ name anymore. He can’t even think it.

  
  


*

  
  


He and Anakin train every day. His Jedi is soaked and exhausted every time afterwards; it takes a bit of time but eventually he starts grinning again. Whenever he can throw Rex down, he chuckles. He doesn’t use the Force. Rex doesn’t worry because he still sees him meditate and use it from time to time—just not when they are sparring. One day Rex sees him tweak his arm; he’s got a serious frown on his face and from what he can see the arm has been disconnected. The sight _hurts_ at first—because he forgot what it was like to see his General work on his arm when they had some downtime in a safe space.

“I’m good,” Anakin mumbles, eyes still focused on his arm. “I just want to see if I can…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, too engrossed in his work. Rex nods silently then leaves, knowing if he keeps watching him he will distract him, even though he wishes he could watch Anakin like this for the rest of the day.

  
  


*

  
  


Days turn into weeks then into months and before Rex can realize it this is already his life. He lives on Dathomir, with his former General and a former Sith. He eats and sleeps whenever he wants without worrying if he will be able to the next day. He just lets himself live—and that’s what’s funny. Everything he does these days is because he is sheltered to the point that he has no idea what is happening around him. He still watches the news. He just doesn’t truly care anymore.

The biggest problem is that Rex grows restless. 

It’s a dare from himself—or at least that’s how he tries to rationalize it. He’s lonely. That’s why. And he can’t… His General is his general. So Rex focused on Maul because he’s here. Right? Right. 

So it’s a dare. It’s from himself because he’s lonely and Maul is… _Maul._ It’s nothing more, nothing less—or at least that’s what he tells himself. One evening he goes to find the Sith. Anakin isn’t here and judging how _invisible_ he’s been for the entire day, he doesn’t want to be found. As much as Rex worries he’s also aware his Jedi needs some time on his own. So it’s the evening and there’s no one else but him and Maul. The Sith is in the room where he likes to think about whatever it is he likes to think about. It suspiciously looks like it’s the room he chose to brood in but Rex won’t say it out loud. As soon as he steps in, Maul stares at him. His eyes follow him in the room, the holo in front of him completely discarded. Rex tilts his head, walks around, then decides to come closer; he puts himself between the Sith and the hologram, turns it off without looking and leans against the table. Maul stays silent.

It's a bold move what he just did. Could be considered reckless, even. But Rex stares openly, observing and focusing on the most minute expressions and Maul doesn't do anything to stop him. In fact, he doesn't react at all. There’s a seat behind him. Rex considers it for a moment. Well. Torrent are known for their boldness.

He places his hand on Maul’s chest; there are too many layers for him to feel his hearts. The Sith doesn’t react. Rex swallows then pushes him softly down on the seat. And Maul lets him. From there, he doesn’t really think; he straddles his hips, sits down on his lap and his hand settles down Maul’s neck, slowly pushing the clothes apart to find skin.

“Do you know what it feels like?” Rex asks, fingers now sneaking under the layers, slowly stroking his chest. He can’t feel hairs—he isn’t surprised because he already knows there aren’t any but to touch smooth skin is something else. Good or bad, he doesn't know. But it's something else.

Maul stays silent. He doesn’t scowl, or growl, or do anything to stop him—but he doesn’t say anything for him to understand he should keep going either. It’s now or never. Rex prepares himself for rejection, leans down until he almost grazes Maul’s jaw and asks, “Do you want to?”

He expects rejection. A growl. A shove. A painful use of the Force, maybe. He only receives silence. Rex waits. Minutes slide by. He hasn’t moved yet—he doesn’t dare. If he closes the distance, he’d tell more in a gesture than what he is even ready to admit to himself. If he widens the gap, he may set into motion something he doesn’t want. Rex waits.

Nothing happens.

As much as he doesn’t want to, he has to do something. So he swallows, accepts the silent but graceful rejection and that’s when it starts—he tilts his chin down, accepts the offer as it is, but Maul cocks his head minutely. It’s not much, not even visible, but Rex can suddenly feel his breath dancing on his skin and the heat emanating from him almost caresses his lips. Something breaks inside Rex. He stops thinking, lets go of doubt and insecurities; his hand roams and pushes the clothes away to touch more skin and his forehead bumps into Maul’s cheek and stays there. 

They don’t talk. He isn’t really aware of what he’s doing. There’s skin, then more skin then even more skin and he has the need to touch and touch and touch; he leans back to take his shirt off, letting it drop on the floor, and comes back to his rightful place as fast as he can, not wanting to let thoughts settle between them. It’s shamefully pathetic how he has to force down a sob when Maul’s hands come into contact with his skin, fingers mapping his back without the constraint of clothes between them. Rex doesn't know what happened but somehow they've stopped moving. His head is buried in the crook of Maul’s neck; he's breathing heavily, body shaking faintly, and his arms are tightly wound around Maul. Rex doesn't want to move. So he doesn't.

He falls asleep.

  
  


*

  
  


He forgot how it felt to have someone's skin against your own. He forgot how it felt to be held.

  
  


*

  
  


Rex wakes up in his bed. On his own. He can’t remember how he ended up here. When he comes out of his room, Maul is nowhere to be found—but his Jedi is here. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asks as soon as he sees him. Rex freezes.

“I, er—yeah,” he replies lamely. Anakin smiles, gives him a small nod then focuses on his arm. He’s toying with it again. The sight warms Rex’s chest.

“I’m glad,” his Jedi says and leaves it at that.

  
  


*

  
  


Maul is in the brooding room. His eyes are focused on the holomap in front of him.

Rex takes a step forward. No reaction. Another step. Nothing. He slowly walks to him. When he’s close enough to lean against the table, he observes Maul’s face. His eyes remain on the holomap. He doesn’t give any indication he noticed Rex is now standing next to him. It’s stupid and unreasonable. It could damage the silent agreement they’ve reached. He could put himself _and_ Anakin in a precarious position for this. He doesn’t need to change things. Why does he want to change things?

The holomap flickers—there’s an incoming comm. Maul does a swiping motion with dismissive fingers and ignores it, scowling. He places his hand back at the edge of the table and frowns, eyes stubbornly glaring at the map. Rex stares at his hand and his heart accelerates. He leans against the table and lets his hand rest on it, right next to Maul’s, observing him silently. He doesn't move. Maul is still facing the holotable but his eyes have slid to the side. He's staring at Rex’s hand. He doesn't move either.

  
  


*

  
  


Rex’s hand shifts minutely, slowly sliding closer. When they touch, Maul’s breath hitches.

  
  


*

  
  


“What are you working on?” he asks in a whisper. It seems to do the trick. Maul starts talking, eyes on the holopod, and he gestures with one hand at specific points in the map. It’s surprising how natural it feels, as if this is something they do all the time. As if Maul hasn’t carefully created a wall between them and his work.

“You're not listening,” the Sith accuses after a couple of minutes. Rex doesn't contradict him. He isn't, after all.

“Sorry,” he says and his tone betrays how not sorry he is. He grins.

Maul blinks, taken aback, and falls silent.

“Can you keep talking?” Rex asks. His thumb twitches, grazing Maul’s fingers. “I like the sound of your voice.”

“The—” he stammers. “My voice.”

“Yeah.”

The table beeps again. Another comm. Maul scowls. “I have to take this,” he says.

“Right.” Rex pushes himself off the table, puts his hands in his pockets and walks away.

  
  


*

  
  


He can still feel Maul’s hand besides his own. 

  
  


*

  
  


Rex dreams about kissing hot skin, of hands on his back, someone else's breath in his ear, and he wakes up aching and for a long time he just doesn't want to get out of bed. He is distracted the entire time he and Anakin spar. His Jedi doesn’t say anything but he can tell. After half an hour of trying to make things work out with no success, Rex shakes his head and apologizes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Anakin asks and for a moment the silence feels heavy. It’s… He doesn’t know how to explain it but—it’s not something Rex would expect from him. It’s not that his Jedi doesn’t care, he’s just… He’s not very _attuned_ to other people’s feelings, is the thing. He tends to get lost in his own head and assume what people feel or think is what _he_ thinks they feel. And it can be difficult to make him understand it isn’t always the case.

“I think I’m doing something I shouldn’t,” Rex admits and it feels weird to share it with him. It’s not the case anymore but sometimes it still feels like their relationship is unbalanced—like Rex can’t give to Anakin as much as Anakin gives him. He knows it’s in his own head but still.

“Does he make you happy?”

Rex frowns. “Yeah,” he mutters. Anakin shrugs.

“Then go for it. You should seek happiness where you find it,” his Jedi says and it’s such a Jedi thing to say Rex smiles, even if it’s surprising coming from him.

It’s only hours later that he realizes Anakin asked him if _he_ makes Rex happy—not _it._

*

  
  


In the evening he walks to the brooding room and pushes Maul on the seat, straddling his hips, and he asks, “Do you want to know what it feels like?”

  
  


*

  
  


Maul says yes. This time and all the times that come after.

  
  


*

  
  


Rex wakes up in Maul’s arms and has entire conversations with him without exchanging a single word. He kisses him hello, I'm here, good night and I want you; he touches him with calm down, think, I'm hungry, listen to me and I understand; he looks at him in let’s go, you are right, wait, not here, I’m with you and make love to me.

And these aren't single occurrences—these are everyday occurrences.

Rex wakes up in Maul’s arms and realizes he doesn't want to wake up any other way now. He silently brushes Maul’s cheek with a careful thumb, observes him instinctively nuzzling his palm and he realizes Maul doesn't want to wake up any other way either. He places his forehead against his, closes his eyes when Maul's hand cups the back of his head and he sighs in satisfaction. He doesn't need to hear the words to know.

  
  


*

  
  


The first time Maul kisses him spontaneously Rex grins too much for them to keep going.

  
  


*

  
  


Sometimes he sees Maul’s hands and can't focus on anything else but getting them on him. These hands have power, blood, vice and pain lacerated and infused in them; they were built to bring suffering, torment and lay waste to anyone daring to oppose them. They're weapons, made to undo, wreck and destroy. Rex saw them build, deconstruct and reshape. He saw them create, tear down, dismantle, disrupt and invent. He saw them do many things they were built for and countless more they weren't made for. He loves them even though he knows he shouldn't.

“Unmake me,” he demands in a kiss, crowding Maul until he can focus on nothing else but him. 

And Maul does; he takes off Rex's clothes, puts his hands on him—touches and brushes and pinches and caresses, rendering him incoherent and wanton. He takes Rex and reshapes him into another being, one of love and devotion, purposely shielding him from everything around them for a short instant, making sure nothing besides him can occupy Rex's thoughts. These hands were made to destroy and they do—they kill every single thing trying to distract Rex only to rebuild him as they see fit.

He rides Maul’s fingers with wild abandon, moaning his desire and addiction to the skies, small, broken cries of admittance permeating the air around them. 

“Unmake me,” he demands in a wanton whisper and Maul does. He pulls him down to kiss him softly, lips laying praises and silent prayers on his skin, and he crooks his fingers inside Rex, spreads them, twists them and kriffs him hard and fast, entirely at odds with his gentle mouth. 

Rex comes dry from these fingers; he gasps and stiffens, silent cries trying to escape, and his cock is still hard but his senses shut down and he feels nothing but overwhelming pleasure. 

“Unmake me,” he begs with desperate need and Maul does. He pushes him over the edge again and again until Rex is trembling and pleading for him to _stop, don't stop, kriff me, Maul, Maul, Maul—_

It takes months, an entire year maybe, but they’re together and Rex is slowly losing sense of anything that isn’t _them,_ kissing like his life depends on it, sobs and pleas and begs leaving his mouth freely; Maul pushes him away to stare up at him with wonder and fear, thumb stroking Rex’s bitten red lip, and he shakes his head in denial.

“Talk to me,” Rex whispers, prying the forbidden words out of his throat and Maul swallows.

“Are you mine?” he asks with uncertainty. There is so much fear in his eyes—stifling and devouring, such an inherent part of him that no matter how much Rex wants to destroy it he’ll never be able to without destroying a part of Maul. His disbelief is so strong Rex has to stop breathing for a moment. The truth is he’s just as afraid as Maul is. 

  
  


*

  
  


Maul likes being in charge as much as he likes to _let go—_ and it's baffling to realize he does quickly and easily. Rex expected he would need a bit of coaxing, a lot of time and attention. He even thought maybe Maul never would. But one evening he looks at Rex, sinks down to his knees silently and starts nuzzling his hip, eyes closing when Rex's hand takes hold of his horns. _Captain,_ he whispers in the quiet of the night before Rex’s soft shushing loosens his lips and draws out a fervent prayer. _Make me yours,_ he whispers like it’s a sin.

It’s a beautiful sight—to have him on his knees, eyes wide and staring up at him with wonder and devotion, lips stretched thin around his cock. It’s even more beautiful to see him take a deep breath, open his jaw widely then beg in a whine to be used. With time, he learns that Maul likes to suck him off hard and fast; he always wants Rex to make him gag on his cock to the point of becoming lightheaded. When he does, Maul’s eyes cross and he moans loudly, entirely lost in the feeling of being kriffed like a paid mouth. His body always writhes and instinctively tries to get away but his hands clench on Rex’s ass, pulling him forward so that Maul _has_ to take it hard and deep. 

It was… surprising at first—to see him so wanton and desperate for Rex's cock, begging to be kriffed and used until he wouldn't be able to think straight. It's become a ritual now. Rex is tender and loving when they begin, placing worshipping kisses and whispering his adoration on Maul's skin; they take the time to simply exist besides one another, to revel in the fact that they are here and that this is not their first nor their last time together. There's no doubt in Rex's mind that he loves Maul with his entire being, as baffling as it may seem. Then Maul grows restless—maybe it becomes too much. Maybe he becomes impatient. Maybe he doesn't know how to handle Rex's evident love. The fact is Maul begins to twitch with jerky, frantic movements that hint of desperation and eagerness—and that's when Rex knows it's time. He whispers an order, observes a small window of rebellion then reluctant compliance, and he sees Maul bloom in this careful moment, letting go to give Rex the key to his soul. 

He uses his mouth with careful abandon, kriffs him hard and fast, makes him choke on his cock and hears him moan without restraint, cybernetics twitching in involuntary reactions. Rex comes inside him, forcing his mouth to open widely and pressing on his throat to have him swallow in instinct. Maul gags, body writhing away—but his fingers hold onto Rex desperately and his eyes roll to the back of his head until it's over and he just drops like his strings got cut.

  
  


*

  
  


Maul is always soft afterwards—completely out of it, staring into space with heavy-lidded eyes, here but far away from him. Rex can't let him fall asleep; if he does, Maul wakes up consumed by fear and haunted by ghosts and old memories that never healed. So he waits, kisses him softly and whispers love and tenderness on his skin. He waits patiently for him, begs him with hushed wishes, _Come back to me_ —and Maul always does, because Maul is his.

  
  


*

  
  


Rex thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than to see him blink in confusion, eyes looking around until they settle on him, face morphing into quiet content and relief, like Rex is all he wants and he needs nothing more to live.

  
  


*

  
  


“You’re mine,” Rex whispers one night across his shoulder blades, kissing the skin for each shiver he receives. There is no verbal response but the way his body replies to every touch is enough.

Rex stills for a moment. He stares at one of the countless scars Maul has on his back, traces them with his thumb, a heavy weight in his throat. 

“And I’m yours,” he admits in a murmur, trembling at the truth behind his words, and he closes his eyes. When he feels Maul trying to roll back he almost stops him.

“Captain,” he calls. His eyes stay closed. “Rex.”

It takes time. An entire minute maybe. But Rex does look at him. 

“We belong to no one,” Maul tells him. “It is a choice.”

  
  


*

  
  


It's a lazy morning and Maul rolls over him, teeth grazing his neck and he hums low in his throat. Rex's finger twitch, anticipation muddled by his half-awake body, but he is conscious enough to know baring his neck is the right thing to do. Maul chuckles, pushes the bottle of oil into his palm insistently and says, "We have time today."

Rex shivers, a lazy grin forming on his face and he huffs a laugh. "Yeah?" He can feel him leave a trail of kisses on his chest, then lower and lower.

"We could try what you suggested last time," Maul whispers innocently. "I would not be opposed to it."

"Wizard," he exclaims when he feels him bite his hipbone. He's awake now, fully awake—he said it as an afterthought, aiming for a casual suggestion but he's been thinking about it a lot. A whole lot. He just thought Maul wouldn't be interested. He lifts himself up on his elbows, shivering, eyes trailing over Maul's form an—

He is staring at Rex's hip, eyes wide, like he never saw it before and has no idea what it's supposed to be. "Maul? What's wrong?" He's not even moving; he's deadly still and looks horrified. "Hey what's—"

"What did you say," he mutters, voice flat and Rex frowns. What did he say?

"I, er, I don't know?" He blinks. "I said yes I think?"

"No," he whispers instantly. "You did not."

"Then wha—"

"Do not say. Anything," Maul enunciates through gritted teeth, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "In fact, refrain from even uttering a sound for the next minute or so, I need to reconsider the terms of our arrangement."

Rex clamps his mouth shut. He has no idea what's happening but he sure as hell isn't going to start a fight now; there's far much better things to do and by that he mainly means Maul.

"I am questioning how efficient my instinct of self-preservation is," he mutters. Rex knows the answer but he's certain he won't like it so he stays silent. "Seeing I am still inclined to continue despite what you just said."

Rex blinks, trying to remem—"I can't believe you." He scoffs. "You're acting all prim because I said ‘wizard’? You heard me swear plenty of times already!"

Maul makes a choking sound.

*

The Queen of Naboo dies. She is executed in public—in her nightgown, in the middle of the day in the heart of Theed, undignified and unpainted. There is only one stormtrooper assigned to her execution, a nondescript white implying no specialization. She is a conspirator in a thwarted attempt on the Emperor's life. She is insignificant. Yet her execution is broadcasted in the entire galaxy, put on loop for the masses to see. It is deplorable to see perversion growing within the people of Naboo, on the Emperor’s _homeworld._

A week later, there is just one, single piece of information about the death of yet another senator. Padmé Amidala died of a heart attack in her own house, in the heart of Coruscant. Even youth cannot mend a broken heart—and for someone who loves her planet as much as Amidala did, is it really surprising that she could not take to see so much depravity in her own heart?

When Rex sees the news, he turns off the HoloNet immediately. Then he hesitates. He gives himself an hour to process it and decides what to do. The decision is snatched from his hands when Anakin comes to see him and asks, “Did you turn off the HoloNet so I wouldn't learn about Padmé?”

There's no accusation in his tone—no resentment or sense of betrayal. There's nothing at all; it's as flat as it can be. Rex stares at him and knows he can't lie.

“Yes,” he confesses. 

  
  


*

  
  


The response is the worst he could hope for. Anakin smiles and nods silently then leaves the room. Rex knows he has no rights to go after him. So he doesn’t.

  
  


*

  
  


If Anakin knows about Padmé then that means he may know about _him_ too.

  
  


*

  
  


One day, Rex sees Maul talking to Anakin and he stills.

They’re in the brooding room; his Jedi is looking at the holomap, nodding along to what his Sith says, both so focused on their task they don’t acknowledge his presence. It occurs to Rex that they are much closer than what is considered socially acceptable. Maul’s head rises and he whispers something to Anakin; they stare at each other as if they are used to standing so close to one another, as if distance is more of an issue than a show of respect. If Maul craned his neck he could kiss Anakin easily—and neither of the two seems to be disturbed by this.

His Jedi smiles. Even when Maul looks back to the holomap, Anakin’s eyes stay focused on him. Rex blinks. His heart is hammering against his ribcage. He’s struck speechless and motionless. He swallows heavily and Anakin subtly startles; his eyes slide to him and his smile widens. Rex has no idea what his Jedi is saying; he knows he is speaking because his lips are moving but he can’t make out the words. When he looks to Maul for help, he is only met with his Sith staring at him with intent—except Rex doesn’t understand what he is saying either.

“I need to—” He doesn’t even try to finish his sentence before leaving.

  
  


*

  
  


“How long has it been since you both trained,” Maul whispers on his skin, taking off layers after layers slowly. His hands trace patterns understood by no one but him—a silent love song that Rex craves the more he experiences it.

It’s been a while. He doesn’t even remember when they stopped training. He wonders if it was Anakin who stopped—but seeing that Maul pointedly asked, he wagers it’s not the case.

“What are you trying to tell me?” he says across his fingers, taking them in his mouth when they press on his lips. Maul kisses his neck tenderly but doesn’t reply. 

  
  


*

  
  


Rex catches them whispering to each other many times; he steps by the brooding room to see if Maul has eaten only to see Anakin already there, grinning at something his Sith said. One time he looks for his Jedi and finds him standing in front of his room, leaning against the door while Maul says something in his ear. And every time, Rex’s heart drums loudly and frantically; he freezes and stares until one of them acknowledges him then he walks away.

“What are you trying to tell me,” he whispers against Maul’s back one night when his Sith is already asleep. He curls his arm tighter to pull him against him, uncaring of the cybernetics biting his own stomach. 

  
  


*

  
  


When Maul kisses Anakin, Rex isn’t as surprised as he thought he would be.

  
  


*

  
  


He stares at his Sith, dumbstruck and dumbfounded, and he sees yellow eyes staring back at him, waiting, _expecting_ something—but Rex doesn’t know that. When he hears Anakin’s shaky sigh, he takes a step forward and suddenly it hits him.

“Rex,” his Jedi whispers on Maul’s lips and he stops thinking.

  
  


*

  
  


They stop kissing as soon as they see him approaching, staring at him intently. Neither of them tries to push the other away. Rex takes a look at Maul and knows. When he’s in front of them, he brushes Anakin’s cheek, his thumb grazing a strand of soft hair, and he nods a question. His Jedi closes his eyes and leans against his palm immediately. Rex’s throat tightens.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I didn’t understand.”

Anakin only nods. Rex’s hand goes to the back of his head; his fingers sink in long, soft curls and he drags him down to claim his lips.

  
  


*

  
  


He wonders if this was where they were always supposed to end up. He wonders if his past self would believe him if he told him one day he’d kiss his General and knows it feels right.

  
  


*

  
  


The most difficult task is to make Anakin understand he _has_ to be patient.

“Don't move,” Rex whispers, thumb delicately brushing his Jedi’s cheek. He kisses the crown of his head and shushes him when the only response he gains is a whine. Anakin’s whole frame is trembling, desire unrepentant and difficult to manage. It probably doesn’t help that the entire room reverberates their lust; it’s already difficult for him to control his own emotions. Rex can’t even imagine how hard it must be with two other people experiencing a whirlwind of their own. 

He takes a deep, calming breath and makes a point of relaxing his entire body. Craning his neck, he smiles silently when he is instantly cradled. 

“Kiss me,” Rex demands in a hushed order and Maul does, fingers running through his hair, breath shivering inside Rex’s mouth. It’s not the first time—it won’t be the last—but to see him comply so readily sends Rex's heart in a frenzy, body thrumming with gratification. 

He squeezes Anakin’s thigh once, giving him the all clear; he can almost _feel_ his relief. “Slowly,” Rex reminds him, breaking the kiss before Maul reclaims his lips once again. He can’t stop the groan from leaving his mouth when he feels Anakin push inside him. It’s been a while; they took the time but it’s been a while. Rex tries to remember to breathe and relax, to focus on the kiss, but he can’t help but tense just a bit.

Maul’s hand curls around Anakin’s throat, thumb pressing on his larynx silently. He doesn’t need words or more than this—the reminder comes loud and clear. Rex’s eyes open to look at his Jedi.

“Sorry,” Anakin says, voice tight, eyes fluttering shut when Maul’s fingers squeeze once then release him. He slows the pace, stills just for a second. “Rex?”

He gasps, Maul’s teeth nibbling at his shoulder distracting him, possessive hands clawing at his chest. “Yeah,” he rasps, moaning when rough fingers brush his nipple. “Go on.”

“Yeah?” Anakin asks. He’s definitely trembling. Rex cups his cheek, trying to soothe him, and his heart breaks just a little when Anakin nuzzles his palm immediately, eyes closed. He’s starving for affection. How did Rex not notice it before? He’s supposed to see if his Jedi’s not fine. And he’s clearly not. 

“Captain,” Maul rumbles in his ear. His lips caress Rex’s jaw and he can feel him shivering against his back. “How do you want me?”

He hums in delight. “Like this,” he says. For now. Maul’s arms surround him, pulling him even closer. Hungry hands claw at his ribs, nails biting his skin and Rex offers him a small moan in reward, clenching around Anakin without intending to.

His Jedi chokes and slams into him abruptly, bottoming out. Both he and Maul freeze in an instant. Rex's mouth opens in a silent cry. Oh, he's big. He's okay but— _fierfek_ _—_ Anakin’s big and it's been _a while_ since he had anything other than Maul’s fingers. 

“‘S alright,” he gasps, taking slow breaths and petting his Jedi’s hair, because he can sense Anakin is already thinking he failed enough for them to kick him out—and this won't do. This _can't_ do.

Rex has been so self-absorbed, focusing entirely on the steps he and Maul took together that he completely dismissed his Jedi’s well-being—without even noticing. He _knows_ Anakin needs attention; he knew what he was getting into when he decided to defect and bring him with him. Because as much as Anakin tried to stay distant with his men, Rex began to love him, _truly_ love him, on Naboo, where he almost died at the hands of a kriffing lunatic with a penchant for deadly viruses.

“Anakin,” he soothes in a soft whisper, gaining his attention immediately. Blue eyes rove over his face. So much doubt, apprehension and fear in them. It twists Rex's throat. “Anakin.”

His Jedi flinches, averting his gaze. The hot body behind him moves, making Rex slide down.

“Anakin,” Maul says. His hand takes hold of shoulder length hair and he pulls him closer softly, catching his mouth in a kiss. It works—blue eyes flutter shut and there's a muted sigh; Rex watches them kiss above him and he smiles.

Anakin sighs inside Maul’s mouth, organic hand seeking touch eagerly. His fingers come into contact with hot skin, following an invisible path upwards until they settle around Maul’s horns and stroke them with lust-drunk desire. He begins rocking in tempo with the other’s groans and Rex tilts his head so he can listen to the dual drumming of Maul’s hearts. Durasteel fingers crook under Rex's knee, squeeze his calf and settle around his ankle. 

Anakin breaks the kiss and asks, “Can you hold him up?”

Maul chuckles warmly in reply, nips his jaw and whispers against his ear, “How do you want us?”

Maul's hand settles around Rex’s chin, thumb stroking his lower lip; it’s a silent question, a reminder that, with a single word from him, Maul and Anakin will stop whatever plan they set into motion, no explanation needed. Rex bites Maul's thumb softly, tongue swirling around the tip, and the fingers on his chin twitch minutely. “Go on,” he awards them. He doesn’t need to be Force sensitive to feel their relief.

Rex can't believe they have Anakin now—he can’t believe they didn't see it before. He opens his eyes, sees them both move him carefully and he sighs. Maul takes him in his arms, embraces him silently. Chest against chest, he places Rex’s arms around his shoulders, takes hold of his legs and crosses them around his waist, hips engaging in a slow rock, the durasteel rubbing against Rex's cock in a dance their bodies have come to love, crave and treasure.

Maul kisses him like it’s the first and last time. He always does—and there's a silent, secret part of Rex that thinks maybe, just maybe, sometimes Maul thinks it will be the last time he can have him like this. It digs a hole inside his chest, makes helpless silent shouts swell up in his throat, but there’s not much Rex can do about the doubt that plagued Maul so much throughout his life he cannot live without it. It’s terrifying sometimes to see that the physical damage is nothing compared to invisible scars. Rex has no choice but to live with the idea that maybe, one day, Maul will tip over the edge, lose his path and wander so far away Rex won’t be able to call him back to him. 

“Anakin,” Maul whispers in their kiss and Rex gasps when he feels his Jedi curl around his back, soft hair tickling his bare shoulders. “Hold onto me, captain,” Maul says in their shared breath and Rex tightens his embrace silently. Hot hands pull him up and he lets out a single groan when he feels Anakin entering him again, overwhelmed by the sensation of being pressed between them, both trapped and sheltered by them.

They begin at a slow pace, with Maul rocking softly against him, distracting him with a clever mouth and sharp teeth, while Anakin pants in his hair, hands roaming over his shaking frame. With careful thrusts, he goes deeper and deeper; delicate rolls of his hips elicit broken groans out of Rex. Once he is fully inside, his Jedi sighs and covers him with eager kisses. It occurs to Rex that the position is weird. Anakin is much taller than he and Maul are. He breaks the kiss, tilting his head to glance down and—

Anakin is kneeling on a small crate. There’s a blanket hastily put on top of it but it’s definitely a crate. Rex can’t help it; he starts laughing out loud. Every time he glances back down, he wheezes, and his stomach hurts with the strength of his laughter. Maul tilts his head in confusion, frowning, while Anakin groans.

“I improvised,” his Jedi complained. “You’re both too small.”

“I’m sorry,” Rex says, trying to regain his breath, at the same time Maul mutters something unintelligible. “No, no, it’s—it’s a great idea.”

“Right?” he replies. Rex doesn't need to see his smile to know he’s grinning with pride.

Maul huffs. “Would you two like to go over the details? Shall I turn on the holopod?”

Rex rolls his eyes. “Impatient, much?” He pulls him back into a kiss before he can retort and complain, clenching around his Jedi. The responses are eager and immediate. Rex gasps, arms tightening around Maul, small moans escaping his throat to echo on his skin. Anakin picks up the pace, sliding faster, thrusting harder, and Rex’s head drops back on his shoulder, lulling with every snap of his hips. 

“Fierfek,” he exclaims when his Jedi thrusts _just right,_ the motion sending shivers up his spine. “Just ri— _Ah, Anakin, yes—_ ”

Maul laughs warmly on his neck, licking a stripe over his jugular. He spreads him wider, hands clawing at his skin, and he bites without warning. Rex’s eyes open in surprise and he howls, clenching and writhing, limbs moving on their own. They restrict his movements quickly, stopping him from hurting himself, and Anakin starts pounding him brutally, moaning loudly, small shouts of pleasure verging on whines. He shifts slightly to the left and Rex’s eyes roll to the back of his head with the new angle. Maul’s teeth release him, giving him a small reprieve, and he sees that it’s _Anakin_ who pulled him off, hand splayed to the back of his head, fingers stroking the bases of Maul’s horns in rhythm with his thrusts. The Jedi pulls him closer, aiming for a kiss—but all he does is moan against his grinning mouth, unable to do anything but sharing breath with him.

Maul licks Anakin’s lower lip, closes his eyes, and gives him a Keldabe, softly rocking against Rex’s cock, trying to swallow down every moan the Jedi offers him.

“Harder, Anakin,” he whispers softly, kissing his forehead. He hums in satisfaction when his suggestion is met with enthusiasm. He looks back at Rex and says, “Make him scream.”

“Maul,” Rex calls in a breathless moan, lips forming the name on his Jedi’s neck. “Maul.”

Anakin chuckles and pushes his head off his shoulder to settle him against Maul. “Captain,” he feels whispered with reverence against his temple, followed by a chaste kiss, and Rex sobs, arms curling more tightly around his Sith. There’s something uttered, words exchanged, but he can’t focus because Anakin is hitting that perfect angle every single time and all he can do is gasp and hold onto Maul. 

“Anak—” his eyes cross and he moans loudly, the hard slaps of Anakin’s hips making him bounce around Maul. Rex wails, hands clawing at Maul’s back, spine arching. “Fier— _ah, kriff—_ ”

“You feel so good,” Anakin says in the crook of his neck, hands clutching at his waist, pounding him harder and harder. “Maul,” he says with obvious restraint. “If you—if you want to—”

“Hold him up,” Maul says, cutting him off. Suddenly his hands don’t support Rex anymore and it’s only Anakin’s quick reflexes that stop him from falling down; he hears his Jedi swear in Huttese behind him but Rex can’t think—Maul is pushing his arms away and—

“Captain,” he calls, hands curling around his ribs. “Look at me.”

Rex does, panting heavily, tilting his head to let Anakin bite his neck where Maul previously did. “Why—where—”

Maul takes a step away but comes back immediately when Rex whines; he kisses him hungrily and whispers, “Please.”

He sees him sink down on his knees, watching him, and he moans when Maul sets his hands under his knees and places Rex’s legs on his shoulders, curling his ankles over his back.

“Hold onto me,” Anakin says in his ear, supporting him. He starts rocking again, more slowly—a languorous rhythm that makes them both breathe in stuttered sighs and moaning gasps. Maul raises one hand up calling the bottle of oil to him. Anakin laughs. “Show off.”

Maul squeezes oil and coats his fingers—Rex can’t see what he does after because his tongue licks a stripe from the base of his cock to the head, making him arch against his Jedi and moan loudly. When Maul takes him into his mouth, Rex’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Do that again,” his Jedi exclaims, hips thrusting hard, and Rex wails. Maul laughs around his cock. Whatever he’s doing has Anakin pounding him like a kriffing machine and Rex is more than happy with this. “ _Ah, wizar—_ ”

“You say that word and I make sure neither of you comes,” Maul sneers instantly. Rex clamps his mouth shut, afraid of laughing out loud. He can still feel Anakin’s chest silently vibrating against his back.

“If I don’t, can you keep doing that thing?” Anakin asks, voice shaking. Rex can’t tell if it’s because he’s trying not to talk or because Maul is definitely doing what Rex thinks he’s doing.

“If you do, I will as well,” he replies. “However, the end will not be the same.”

“Oh?”

Rex hears Maul chuckles and swears when he feels his tongue lick him to the hilt. “Say it, then,” the Sith taunts.

Behind him, Anakin moans loudly and thrusts inside him sharply. Rex cries out, breathing heavily when his senses overwhelm him. 

“Don’t say it,” he moans, aiming for threatening and missing the mark entirely. 

Maul swallows him entirely, humming to stop himself from gagging—and he must be doing _something_ to Anakin because his Jedi jolts abruptly with a shaky gasp that ends into a stuttering whine. The Sith laughs around him and Rex knows. He’s going to pass out. It’s when Maul stops humming that he’s certain. He keeps taking him into his mouth, coughing, and Anakin stills. 

“Rex,” his Jedi whispers in his hair. Then he moves again and Rex screams.

He passes out.

  
  


*

  
  


When he comes back to himself, he sees Anakin riding Maul’s fingers and kriffing his mouth desperately, head thrown back and panting heavily. Rex can sense his Sith is already halfway out of it, moans getting quieter, and his heavy-lidded eyes flutter slowly. He shivers, body exhausted and screaming at him to get rest but he can’t make himself look away.

“Please,” Anakin begs, hand clenching on Maul’s horns. “Please.”

Maul blinks, at first uncomprehending, then he lets go of his cock and lets himself be pulled into a sloppy kiss; the Jedi takes himself in hand and comes between them, groaning in his mouth and Maul’s eyes open widely and he lets out a startled moan. When Anakin lets go of himself they both drop down and lie on their backs. Maul is staring at the ceiling, panting heavily, and Rex has never seen him like this. He thinks he’s just missed something. He rolls over to him to ask him if he’s alright only to be pulled in a hungry kiss; Maul rolls over him and kriffs his mouth desperately. It takes time but eventually the hunger subdues and _there,_ what’s left is quiet love. He stays on top of him, shaky breaths and shivers running down his spin in rhythm with the strokes of Rex's fingers. After a while, he slowly comes back to himself.

“Feeling better, captain?” the Sith asks against his lips. Rex smiles. “I could bring food and water.”

“Here?”

“Do you have anything else planned for the day?” Maul nips his jaw, kisses his neck then trails down his chest. “This needn’t be over yet.”

“I agree,” Anakin says immediately, rolling over and plastering himself on Maul’s back. “I mean. For food, too. I’m hungry.”

Rex puts his arms around Maul, pulling him down, and kisses him like it’s the first and last time. He can hear Anakin kissing Maul’s back and feels his responding smile against his lips.

“Wizard,” Rex whispers with reverence. 

Maul stiffens immediately.

“Wizard,” Anakin repeats.

Maul pushes them both away and recoils with a disgusted face. Rex can't stop himself from laughing, pulling Anakin against him. His Jedi basks in their shared laughter; he looks at Rex and suddenly he can see it—right now, Anakin is happy. He takes his Jedi's face between his hands, his thumbs stroking the contours of his smile, and he shakes his head. “I'm sorry I didn't see it earlier,” he whispers. Anakin looks at him but says nothing.

“You see it now,” Maul says, kneeling next to them, curling himself around Anakin and covering his back with his chest; he nuzzles his hair and sighs quietly. The sight sends Rex's heart in a frenzy.

“Yeah,” he confirms in a whisper. “I do.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> why have a Darth Vader when you can have an Obi-Wan Kenobi with his trusted Commander Cody, right (help)


End file.
